Downfall of it all
by WriterT
Summary: She is new to the craziness of Mercer-ville when Angel's secret slips and threatens to tear the family apart. Will she be able to save the family or will she be in the center of the downfall?
1. Chapter 1

**_This is a story i never intended to post. It was something i really wrote for my own self entertainment. _**

**_I just figured i would post it in case anyone wanted to read a sister story! Hope you enjoy,thanks for reading!_**

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**Chapter One:**

There are very few things that I remember from when I was a little girl. Sadly, the most prominent of my memories can be regarded as pointless. I remember Elvis Presley singing in my house every night. I remember a ratty old blanket that was stained with dirt and limp with stank that kept me as warm as it could at night. I mostly, though, remember one night in particular. It was the fearful night that I was laying on the floor in a small one window bedroom, quietly singing along to "Mystery Train", when the music died. It was the night that Elvis Presley stopped singing and police knocked down my front door and dragged my parents away from there dope and wrestled them into the back of a flashing squad car. It was the beginning of the end and when your only six your outlook on life becomes a harsh reality.

"Look, Presley I'm tired of constantly placing you so don't screw it up. Got it?" Mr. Lucas asked placing a firm hand on my shoulder like a silent threat.

"Your faith in me has never been stronger." I mumbled pressing my finger to the button maxing out the volume on my Discman. I shifted anxiously from foot to foot wishing we could just get this all over with. Skip the introduction and jump right to the part where the lady asks how much her foster parent check is worth. Of course this lady was suppose to be _different_, she was suppose to have took four other boys in and made them saints, showed them what a real parent is like. Don't B.S the bullshitter- I don't fall for it.

The door opened, making me jump. A tall gangly boy with messy dish-water hair leaned against the door frame carelessly. "Hello there son." said Mr. Lucas holding out a hand for an introduction. The boy ignored him and left us at the door, I stepped into the house with a satisfied smirk. He let his hand drop awkwardly to his side. I turned down the volume and rested my headphones on my neck.

"Ma the kids here." I heard the boy yell into the kitchen while he took a seat on the couch. He muted the volume on the TV but stared at it intently.

A women who was roughly my height but had me by about seventy-five pounds walked into the room with a smile tugging at her lips. She knocked her sons feet off the table as she came through holding out her arms.

"Hi there, I'm Evelyn, its so nice to meet you." She beamed shaking first mine and then Mr. Lucas's hand. She ushered us into the family room where the two adults both started making small talk and I pulled my headphones back up, absentmindedly watching whatever the boy had on TV.

I could instantly notice things that were different at this house than the others. Like a "family" room, or the many picture's littering the walls, and the way the house felt so relaxed and lived-in. It was comfortably messy and the stained carpet and torn furniture seemed to only compliment the room. It didn't even make me uncomfortable when the boy and Evelyn kept giving me curious glances as my eyes swept the room. The only thing that made me slightly unsure was the normalcy of the room. There were no pictures of cats on the walls, traces of pot lingering the table, or moldy furniture. I was waiting for something to scream out at me, some sort of sign, that this was just another house, another "home", another "family", another dead end.

I felt a hand on my knee and looked up to find Mr. Lucas mouthing some sort of awkward goodbye to me. I muted my music and gave him a quick nod before turning my attention back to the TV. With a final exchange of words Mr. Lucas left leaving me in the vicinity of the "too normal" home with the "too normal" lady.

"Well, Presley, would you like to see your bedroom." Evelyn's asked softly as she shut and locked the front door. "I'm sure Jack will carry your bags up for you." She gave the boy a pointed look and he obediently got up and made his way over to my three small bags, "…and now if you will follow me." She turned and headed up the stairs after Jack. I quickly followed after her.

I tried to remember which steps creaked, a necessary habit I had acquired, but by the time we reached the second floor I realized that they all did.

"Now, I don't know how much Mr. Lucas told you…but I have three other boys." She looked at me expectantly but I kept my face in a well practiced careless emotion. "This here's Bobby's room, he's not home much…Angel's," She pointed to the first door at the start of the hallway and then to the one across from it. "Here's Jack's room and then the bathroom and…your's". She smiled as Jack opened my door and sat my duffel bags onto the bed.

The bedroom was small but it looked like a decent amount of work had gone into it. The walls were painted an eggplant purple with faded blue carpet that filled the room along with the mismatched décor. A baby blue dresser stood next to a mirrored closet that reflected an old off-white desk and chair. The bed, wearing old quilts and an iron headboard was shoved in the corner under a single window. The window revealed a black shingled roof, shabby back yard, and a yellow moon. I took off my headphones and threw my Discman on the bed as a shrieking silence filled the room. Jack gave his mother a small nudge.

I turned to find Evelyn smiling at me wearily. "Oh yes, well, I suppose I should leave you to adjust. But before I go I just want to say that…" She prodded Jack out of the room and continued. "This isn't like your other houses, nothing you do will make me hit you. Your safe here, no matter what." She gave a meaningful smile and squeezed my hand before pulling the door shut.

I could feel her words filling the air, making it hard to breath. I fell into my bed trying to make sense of them. How could she guarantee something so promising. Doesn't she know that every hello ends with a goodbye?

I pulled out my record player and records and put Elvis on the track. "Suspicion" played like an after thought as I filled the empty drawers with clothes and the few personal items I had acquired throughout my many homes. I taped my tattered Elvis poster to the wall and wrote the lyrics of "Evil" on the mirror in eyeliner. The room was actually starting to feel like my room. Something I wasn't sure I was comfortable with.

As long as it took me to set up I still wasn't tired when I looked at the clock and it read 11:21. Wishing I had more things to put away I occupied myself by digging into my bag and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I grabbed my jacket and left my window open while I climbed out onto the roof. It was October so the Detroit air was crisp and abnormally clean feeling. I tugged my jacket around me tighter and lit my smoke. I watched the moon as it slowly got higher in the sky. The deep soothing sound of Elvis sang to me, and between that and the tobacco, it was pulling me into a deeper kind of calm.

My smoke had burnt to a stub before I heard a window snap open. I quickly extinguished it with my thumb. Wincing as I hurried to hide my pack and then clumsily letting it slip to the edge of the roof. "God Damnit." I mumbled. _You can't do anything right. _

"Whoa," I heard the boy say as one long leg crept out the window "that kind of language is just not tolerated in this house." He warned as he somehow managed to fit all six foot of him through the window. He walked over to me with a joking smirk on his face that quickly burnt out when he saw my lack of amusement.

I leaned my head up against the side of the house and focused all my attention to the stars. They were the only thing you could ever really count on. No matter how many homes I went to or how many hands touched me I knew that stars would always be the same. Even if I cant see them they are still there. Even if there in different patterns they are still all there. Consistency.

He slid down next to me and leaned his head against the siding taking a deep breath and letting out smoke. I eyed his cigarette enviously. "Oh so that's what the cursing was about." He nodded to the pack sitting at the edge of the roof. "You know those things will kill you."

I rolled my eyes. I waited for the 'your too young to smoke' lecture to come, but it didn't.

"I started smoking when I was just a kid too." He quipped pointedly.

I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn't a kid but decided against it and let him continue. When he didn't we just sat there. The silence was comfortable. Only the sound of his burning cigarette and the wind through the trees made noise. Although the stars held my attention for a time, I couldn't help but keep glancing at his cig. My throat was starting to get thick and I knew I was either going to have to get my pack or steal the one from his hand.

He apparently could since my mounting anxiousness because he recklessly stumbled to the end of the roof and coolly tossed the pack to me. "Elvis, huh?" He asked taking his seat back next to me.

I shrugged, not knowing how to respond. His cool and careless attitude made me weary to open my mouth and reveal the clumsy and "un-cool" person I am.

"You know I never thought I'd say this but shrugging isn't an answer; use words'. He smirked and I could hear some sense of déjà vu in his voice.

I lit my cigarette expertly. "Yeah…I like his music." I said taking a long, much needed, drag.

"Did your parents like him? Is that why your name is Presley?"

"I don't know too much about my parents, as you could've probably figured out." I said shortly letting the smoke pour out of my mouth as I spoke.

He snickered "Aww…c'mon kid-"

"I'm not a kid." I mumbled sounding very much like a kid.

He smirked again and I decided I really didn't mind him all that much. I mean he was bothering the hell out of me but at least he was making some sort of twisted effort. Most people just left me to fend for my own or beat me senseless so I suppose I should be more appreciative. There was something about him that made me comfortable. Something that gave me reassurance.

We sat there again in the comfortable silence as he lit up another cig and I smoked mine to a stub. I flicked it towards the end of the roof and it landed in the gutter.

We both watched it smoke and burn out in a leaf.

"That's a bad move Elvis." he stated shaking his head "Guess who cleans out those gutters?"

I stayed quiet waiting for him to continue, when he didn't, I ate the bait. "Who?"

"Bobby and even though you don't know him he'll have your ass and mine for smoking." He stood up and picked the cig out of the gutter. "Here's the trick…stick them in your back pocket until you can throw them out somewhere but make sure you don't let them go through the wash otherwise Ma will find." In case I didn't understand he stuck the cig stubs in his back pocket.

"Thanks." I mumbled listening as my record skipped to an end.

"12:30" Jack yawned looking at his watch. "I guess we should pry be going to bed." He said as more of a statement than a suggestion.

I decided not to argue with this brother quite yet and threw the cigs on my bed before climbing through the window. I laid on my bed and listened as Jack's heavy footsteps made their way to his window.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Th-Thanks."

I could hear the smile in his voice as his words floated through my window. "Anytime, Elvis…anytime."


	2. Chapter 2

There were a lot of things I hated about new foster homes. I hated the evasiveness that always came along with new parents. I hated the awkwardness that wrapped itself around you whenever you find yourself stumbling into someone else's life. I hated the resentment. More than anything though I guess I hated waking up in a house where nothing felt like yours.

The best part of waking up in the morning is those few bliss seconds before realizing where you are. Those delicate seconds before remembering where your living and who your living with. Those are some of my fondest foster care memories, the precious seconds prior to waking up. But then you really wake up and your laying in a bed that smells like moth balls and dust, opening your eyes to walls that your sure were at one point white but now are a musky beige, and sticking your feet on a cold wooden floor that is filmed with a thin layer of dirt and feels soft to walk on.

So what really threw me for a spin was when I woke up and remembered where I was and didn't feel that familiar pain of realization. Nothing hit me but eggplant purple, autumn rays, and the aroma of some sort of breakfast food. I shut my eyes quickly again wondering what kind of trick my mind was playing on me.

I sighed and when I opened my eyes again it was only to find that the same scenery from last night was still engulfing me. Deep panicked gasps rushed through me. I hopped out of bed and stumbled to the dresser and raked through the drawers running my hands over my belongings. Still waiting for some sense of hate and angst to rush through me I sorted through my CD's. They were all there, all of them. None had been stolen in the nights, no clothes kidnapped while I slept, and no dust piled on the floor.

I quickly pulled out a smoke taking slow meaningful breaths. Everything was too right, it just wasn't normal for everything to be so perfect. I fumbled with the lighter, my sweating hands sliding off the igniter. All at once the end caught flame and sizzled on my lips. I inhaled the smoke with all my breath letting it pour into my lungs. My hands shook as they reached up for the smoke. I blindly threw on an Elvis album and climbed onto my unmade bed.

I tried not to think as I sat on the mattress. Resting my head against the wall I blew puffs of smoke into the air admiring the mastered skill. My breaths became more even and my fingers eventually gained there basic motor skills back. I felt more stable and I wasn't sure who I should thank more. The lord or cigarettes? I settled somewhere in the middle and whispered a small prayer of thanks to the lord for making cigarettes.

I was just lighting another smoke when the door suddenly swung open and Jack's shrewish smile followed. A look of alarm then preceded and I watched as the master of emotions stepped in and quickly shut the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" He blurted at me with a look of awe. He hacked and in a seemingly exaggerated manner swiped at the smoke clouds that filled the room. "It smells like an ash tray in here! You can't just smoke in the house."

I took in deep breaths watching him like a movie.

His head snapped up to the window and he pushed it open before snatching the cig out of my hand and extinguishing it between his thumb and forefinger. He scolded incoherently as he threw the stub in the trash basket before turning on me.

"Look, I wont stop you from smoking but if I am going to keep a secret for you then the least you can do is be smart about the whole thing. I'm surprised the fricking smoke alarm didn't go off. You could of at least cracked a window." He preached.

He paused and refocused his eyes on me. I didn't say anything and he continued.

"You know Ma's a real good lady and you wouldn't get in trouble by her but that doesn't mean she wouldn't give you a good talking to if she found out you were smoking in here."

He must have been finished because he pulled out the chair from under the desk and straddled it letting his elbows rest on the back. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

I shrugged.

"Now I know why Bobby hated when I shrugged." Jack mumbled under his breath. A deep and menacing sigh escaped from him. "Okay, I'm not use to having someone younger than me in the house, so why don't you just tell me why you're smoking in the house." His eyes wandered through the room checking to see if the smoke had cleared out at all.

The room wasn't visibly clear but the air seemed a little crisper. I shrugged again not knowing what to say.

"Look now," He started again with a little more firmness "there are things that are going to make your stay here comfortable but there are also things that wont. Now I learned the hard way but you don't have to." He paused taking a deep sigh and, as I imagined, basking in his selflessness. "Some people in this family wont take," he shrugged, "as an answer. And not answering just isn't an-answer. So you can either tell me why you were smoking inside or you can learn the hard way."

I stared him down wondering how eminent this threat really was. He seemed harmless but who can you really classify as harmless when you live in Detroit? I noticed his hand twitch and his right leg was bouncing anxiously. His bright blue eyes didn't betray him but his body language did, he was all talk.

But just in case I was wrong in my decision I decided to please him with a somewhat truthful answer. " I just needed a smoke." I answered vaguely holding eye contact.

"Your lying."

I quickly looked down to the ground, this time letting my own body language betray me. Lying was always the easy part. Its keeping your composure while being accused that's hard.

"That was too easy." He chided. "Why don't you just tell me the truth. What happened? I know your smart enough to know that it's a dumb decision to smoke in a closed room."

I threw my head back landing it on my pillow and twiddled my thumbs on my stomach. "Is that all you came up here for…to ask me all these questions?" I tested, seeing how he would react.

He didn't answer so I finally started talking.

"When I woke up I just panicked. I couldn't figure out why everything was so normal. This house is just to damn perfect and it freaked me out. I needed a smoke and I just forgot to open the window." My sentence started out sounding justified but I felt childish once I stopped talking.

Jack would think I am some head case. He would tell Evelyn who would promptly call Mr. Lucas saying "What have you given me? The only home she needs to see is a psych ward." He would soon hang up and on his way over to retrieve me he would sit smugly in his 99' Ford Taurus, happy that someone finally suggested as to what he had wanted all along. They would sedate me as soon as they wrestled me down to the ground and ten hours later I would wake up in a padded room wearing nothing but a white strap suit.

I stiffened with fear as I waited for Jack to say something. When he stood up I shot straight up on the bed.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted panicky even though he was no more than three feet from me.

I swallowed desperately trying to relieve my dry throat. He sat down on the end of my bed and gave me a cautious look.

"Elvis," He said placing a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and stiffened expecting a sedative shot to tear into my skin. "You don't have to worry about stuff that you used to anymore. Ma will take care of you. It's going to take a long time to get used to…but now you can just be yourself. You don't have to worry about people hurting you. Your safe here."

Why did everyone keep saying that, was I really so jumpy, did I need so much reassurance? I stood up and removed myself from under his grasp, uncomfortable by the personal space intrusion. I walked over to the record player pulling the vinyl album from under the needle and placing it back in the case. I turned the off switch and occupied myself by running my hands along the album players grooves.

"It going to take some getting used to but you'll get there. You know I was once new here to…I know what its like." His voice was so sincere that it was startling.

I retraced the lines trying to block out his voice. I heard him stand up and he walked over to me placing his hand once again on my shoulder. This time I didn't jump.

"If you ever want to talk, I'm your brother, so you can talk to me." He assured me.

I nodded my head letting him know that I was listening to him. He patted my shoulder satisfied with his older brother like showing.

A knock came from my door and we both turned our heads as Evelyn's white curls popped into sight.

"Jack, I thought you were going to bring Presley down for breakfast? I would've done it myself if I had known it would take you thirty minutes." She playfully scolded him.

Whether she noticed it or not she gave no sign of seeing or smelling smoke. Even though half an hour ago this room looked like a heavy cloud.

"Sorry, ma. We'll be right down." Jack assured her.

Evelyn gave us both warm smiles and shook her head before turning and leaving.

Jack sat on my bed as I moved to put the Elvis album on the shelf with the others.

"Thanks, again Jack." I placed it in the fifth slot, as I organized them all in chronological order. "I guess that's twice now, huh?" I asked with a small smile tugging at my face.

He shook his head in a look of exhaustion "It's like déjà vu all over again."

I waited a second before I started laughing.

He looked at me in surprise. "What?" He asked a small smile playing on his lips.

I laughed harder shaking my head "That made no sense." I choked out.

He chuckled, eyes wide with amusement as he watched the most emotion I had shown at all. "Now I see why Bobby's always whining…never gets any respect from anybody. And I thought this older sibling stuff would be easy." He smirked as I wound down my laughter to a wide smile. "Oh, its so easy to amuse the young."

He shot me a patronizing look and I promptly retorted, "Shut-up."

"Shut-up" He mimicked, while his eye brows shot to the sky and a look of surprise filled his face. "Little miss sassy, eh?…is it already time for a nappy poo?" He teased as his smile grew and mine fell.

"Oh just quit it." I mumbled walking out of my room.

"Ahhh" he said in a sudden moment of realization. "So this is what its like to be able to taunt someone about there age. You'll have to ignore me but I have a lot of catching up to do."

I rolled my eyes as he quipped from behind me. There were a lot of things I hated about foster homes but I think I could handle this. This was a little more good-natured than others. This was something I wouldn't mind waking up to-really waking up to in the morning.

I rounded the corner to the kitchen just as Jack was saying something about "all the years he's been mistreated" when I noticed that Evelyn wasn't the only one waiting in the kitchen.


End file.
